Justin wanted to express his mind somewhat emphatically. It seemed best to say nothing; yet that picture of Ben Davison raging against him and frightening Lucy gave him a suffocating sense of wrath.
“The storm struck us just before we reached Mr. Jasper’s house, and we turned in there for shelter. Jasper wasn’t at home, but the door wasn’t locked and we went in.”
“Jasper was in town,” said Justin.
“Ben put the horses in the stable,” she went on, without noticing the interruption. “When he had done that, and had come into the house out of the rain, he began to rave again. After awhile he said he would go out and see how the horses were doing and give them some hay; but I saw him pick up an axe in the yard and start toward the dam. Though the storm was so bad, I followed him, for he had been swearing vengeance against the farmers, and from some things he had said I guessed what he meant to do. When I reached him he was on the dam, chopping at one of the key logs, and had cut it almost in two.”
She trembled, as that memory swept over her.
“I rushed out upon the dam, when I saw what he was doing, and begged him to stop. He tried to push me away, and I came near falling into the water; but I clung to him, and then the axe slipped out of his hands and fell into the stream. The logs began to crack; and that, with the loss of the axe, made him willing to go back with me. We ran, and had just reached the shore when the dam gave way. The ground was slippery, and he fell as we ran toward the house through the storm; and when he lay there like a log, and I couldn’t get him up, my nerves gave way, and I screamed. Then you heard me. That is all; except the photograph.”
The calm she had maintained with difficulty forsook her as she finished, her voice broke, and her tears fell like rain.
Justin slipped his arm about her.
“You were brave, Lucy!” was all he could find to say.
He had never realized how brave she could be.